


Don't You Fall Now

by MONANIK



Series: Meet-ugly oneshots Haikyuu [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: (im not sorry), A little, Alternate Universe, Awkward Kissing, Awkward Tsukishima Kei, Awkwardness, Crush at First Sight, Gay Panic, Hinata Shouyou & Tsukishima Kei Friendship, Ice Skating, Kageyama Tobio Being an Asshole, Kageyama is a skater, M/M, Meet-Cute, Meet-Ugly, Mentioned Hinata Shouyou, Mentioned Yamaguchi Tadashi, Sorry Tsukki, This sorta hurts to write, Tsukishima Kei & Yamaguchi Tadashi Friendship, Tsukishima Kei is Bad at Feelings, Tsukishima hates winter, Tsukishima need a break, Winter, a lot of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22256230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MONANIK/pseuds/MONANIK
Summary: “You suck!”Kei groaned as he wobbled and slipped for the hundredth time that evening and gripped the two outstretched arms tighter to keep steady.“Or maybe you’re just a shitty teacher,” he barked back.“How hard can it be to just keep your knees steady?” half-yelled Kageyama in kind.Or: A meet-ugly winter prompt from @nowrunalong's prompt list on Tumblr."My friends want to skate  but i don’t know how, can you help me?"
Relationships: Kageyama Tobio/Tsukishima Kei
Series: Meet-ugly oneshots Haikyuu [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1496630
Comments: 12
Kudos: 161





	Don't You Fall Now

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy.  
> I'm back on my bullshit.
> 
> Since I grew up here in Sweden, I've shared Tsukki's inner hatred for winter and ice-skating specifically anytime I've had to begrudgingly skate against my will with a wild class of hooligans I didn't like in the least.   
> Anyways, here's another oneshot except it took me all four hours I was gonna spend studying to write it because I got carried away in the excitement and realized I'm a failure of a human being.
> 
> I might also be procrastinating but what's new.

Kei, in no kinder words, hated winter.

It wasn’t even the cold that did him in; it was the way his fringe would stick to his sweaty forehead anytime he took off his beanie, and the way his beanie was necessary if he wished to not ride shotgun in an ambulance for acute frostbite. It was the slippery roads that—despite the governments attempts at salting and securing them—continued to be a major health hazard year by year. He’d lost count of the hundreds of times he’d glided downhill on his way to school. If he were lucky, on his feet, but more often than he’d like to admit on his ass. The wet clothes, the stiff limbs, the never-ending shivering. Gusty winds and terrible day-night cycles. These were all things commonly associated with winter, and Kei despised every single part of it.

Not even Christmas could remain untainted by the cold grip of December, when every single company from networking to cafes to baby diapers Christmas-fied every aspect of every product. He couldn’t buy milk without the mascot cow winking at him in its obnoxiously ugly Santa hat.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

So, it was safe to say that Kei hadn’t been particularly happy when Yamaguchi had suggested that the two of them—accompanied by the only other thing Kei hated more than winter; Hinata—would take a trip to the newbuilt ice-skating rink downtown.

To further his utter agony, Kei had not the wildest clue as to how ice-skating worked, and if there was one thing he knew about the insufferable pain in the ass that was Hinata it was that he’d never hear the end of it if he were to fall on his ass or otherwise make a fool out of himself (which he was destined to do).

The logical part of his brain, as he stood in the dead center of the commotion that was the venue for the ice-skating rink, told him it was the only thing he could do. Sure, he stood out like a pinkeye with his bright hair and lanky figure—drifting awkwardly through the thickening crowd—but there was no other way for him to assure Hinata would spare his life and nerves.

That’s what his logical brain said. Kei thought he was being so pathetic that the mere notion of wobbling out on the hazard that was the ice-rink was enough to make him cringe worth a lifetime.

Regardless, logic always won in his book. Be it school or work, or the sweet-spot in between usually dubbed _everyday life—_ logic prevailed.

He steeled his grip on the ledges surrounding the ice-rink and frowned at the motorized swirl of people spinning around like a very confused gathering of Japanese fish. People of all ages slithered their way across the ice; some more experienced, some less. Some only children, barely old enough to walk let alone skate, and some grown adults on dates and family outings.

His gaze drifted past the clump of moving people and to the center of the ice-rink where a small gathering of people stood and stared, captivated by whatever was happening beyond his line of sight.

Intrigued he made his way further into the venue, towards the bleachers lining the rink where elders shakily tied their skates and children obnoxiously kicked around as their parents in vain ushered for them to sit still so they could help them with their skates.

Kei found an empty seat next to a particularly rowdy family of four toddlers and sat to tie his hired skates; worn and dirty and stretched from years of usage. They stank of old foot-sweat and on the toe of the skate the fabric had practically fallen off entirely. A white base underneath shone through between loosely hanging pieces.

_Logically,_ his brain hurried to supply his steadily decreasing will.

He begrudgingly put on the skates and tried once then twice to stand only to discover that the whole ordeal was, perhaps, a lot more difficult than he’d originally thought. The worn boot meant lack of stability at his ankles, which in turn meant he had to tie the too-long laces thrice around his skinny ankles to minimize his risk of absolutely wrecking his ankles upon standing. The shoe itself, on the inside, was hard and rigid and definitely not fit for his foot but rather made to fit multiple feet of people of all ages and genders. It means too-much toe space, and too little width. He was already in pain and could only imagine the torture he’d have to endure on the ice.

Lastly, like a cherry on top of the disaster, the blades underneath gave him a few extra centimeters in height that he certainly didn’t need with his 190 centimeters of stumbling baby-giraffe. It meant he had to lean on any and every firm surface he could find so as not to topple over and meet a certain doom. Falling face first from that height couldn’t bode well for his cranium.

He sighed deeply, startling the young girl to his right, and grumpily shoved the too-small, stinky helmet on his head. It was the only one they had left in a size close to his, and was unsurprisingly shock-pink with swirly, white patterns on it.

Whatever. It’d keep his most priced possession safe once he—undoubtedly—came hurtling down towards the cold ice at an impressive speed. A single nudge from a nearby skater would be enough to have him skidding across the entire rink.

Once equipped from head to toe, he slowly waddled his way, millimeter by millimeter, to the opening at the wide end of the rink. A father and his son came up behind him as he hesitated at the door, and he cursed himself for getting himself in this harrowing situation in the first place. Upon noticing his shaky baby-lamb limbs, the father hesitantly asked if he needed help—which Kei stubbornly denied.

He refused to let his last ounce of dignity fly out the window. How come he was struggling this much with stepping onto ice while the ten-year-old behind him stood firmly on both legs, not even holding his father’s hand?

_Whatever_.

He cursed himself one final time before a shaky skate graced the slippery ice. Immediately his sense of balance was tipped off, and he feared a heart attack when he forcefully swallowed back his own heart.

That had been close.

Another step and both feet were now on unsteady ground. Slippery, icy ground. His hands held a death grip on the ledge, refusing to let go as he waited for his brain to re-adjust to the current predicament, he’d placed himself in. Without breathing he pushed himself a bit further from the entrance to make way for the two waiting behind him and had to bite his tongue when the kid practically flew out onto the ice, hollering in delight as he blended with the crowd of moving buffalos.

_Fuck me._

He turned so slowly even he got annoyed, and with his back pressed to the plastic barrier stared at the center of the rink where the crowd of people waving phones and cameras around remained. Whatever was happening there was Kei’s next goal to witness, he decided, since he’d surely have to wade through the same buffalo-crowd come next week, when Yamaguchi would shove him out onto the ice and Hinata drag him further to the heart of it all.

He took a deep breath, waited for a clearing in the herd, then pushed himself off the wall and towards the commotion in the center of it all.

Except he hadn’t accounted for the slip and slide of the ice and had perhaps pushed a _little_ too hard.

His legs shook, arms flailed, and expression quickly morphed into terror the second he realized he narrowly avoided barreling into a little girl and continued onwards, uncontrolled, toward the thick mass of people who certainly didn’t know he was coming.

He flailed and flailed and gasped loudly anytime a skater whizzed past him or the swing of someone hockey-club just barely missed his nose. A lady on the outskirt of the gathering noticed the pole hurtling towards her and dragged her husband by his sleeve out of Kei’s way. He mumbled an incomprehensible _thanks_ as he entered the crowd, arms waving about and barking out _excuse me’s_ and _coming though’s_.

One by one people made way for him. Some laughing, most frowning at the annoying idiot bumping into them—nearly knocking a guy’s glasses off in the process.

Finally, with mortification dyeing his cheeks hot pink to match his ridiculous helmet, he came to a halt in the center of the commotion and there, front view, was the most mesmerizing person Kei had ever laid eyes on.

He was a guy, around Kei’s age it seemed. Young and slender with legs too long for his body and arms too toned to be good for anyone’s health, certainly not Kei’s. His hair, cut into a short, silky-black fringe, swayed with every calculated swing of his leg and turn of his body. Beautiful arms arched and moved with the twirls and twists and turns as the expert lean of a well-trained body told his story for him. Every single twitch of muscle, every flick of a wrist or an ankle was calculated to the angle, to the precise velocity and weight. He moved as if hidden wings scooped him off the ground anytime he jumped, and the expression on his face showing not a single sign of uncertainty; bled into a steely, cold bliss that fell so naturally on high cheekbones and an angular jaw that it simply couldn’t be legal.

Kei could do nothing but gape at him. Striking eyes, as blue as the newly painted bleachers, were set in an unfocused gaze as he moved across the ice. He turned sharply, threw both legs out one after the other, and grabbed both hands behind his back as he spun; right leg high and swinging in a circle, sending him spinning in a steady rotation. And then, coming down to ease his way to the center of the empty space created by the crowd where he—graciously—came to a stop, signifying the end of his little performance.

The crowd immediately erupted into cheers and applause. So many camera lights went off it made Kei nauseous.

Standing still like that, dressed in all black, he was, perhaps, even more handsome. Tall, lean and infuriatingly flawless down to the sharp cuts of his brows and the thickness of framing eyelashes. His cheeks, flushed a gorgeous pink, were the only indication of exertion on his otherwise serene features. He bowed stiffly and deep before bashfully making his way to the ledge behind him.

The gathering quickly dispersed as people went about their business, laughing and talking loudly in awe about the mesmerizing performance. But Kei, who was glued to the ice like it were fresh cement and not the damning hazard he’d painted it to be the entire day, stared after the retreating figure as he reached a hand out to grab his water bottle and a towel.

He watched him talk lowly to a man on the other side, dressed in suit and tie and with strikingly similar features if only older and dustier. They exchanged a couple of unemotive words before the suit-clad man—whom Kei assumed to be his father—walked away.

Kei swallowed thickly as he watched the now lonesome skater, the walking dream, lean against the barrier and sigh deeply to himself. His chest was still heaving, and his cheeks were still flushed a healthy color as he idly let his eyes wander the moving crowd behind Kei, and then snap back to—Kei.

_Shit._

Well, now he had to do something otherwise he’d surely end the day by getting thrown out and charged for stalking. He straightened his posture and swallowed whatever mortification was building in his gut. Sure, he might be sporting one hell of a wonderful helmet, and surely even sexier hair, and, sure, he might be…

_Besides the point._

He wobbly inched closer to the confused skater and watched as previously unnoticeable features grew clearer and clearer the closer he got. Like the black mark on his collarbone peeking through the tight shirt, or the sheen of sweat on beautiful skin.

Before Kei could utter whatever version of _hello_ first came to mind, the dazzling creature spoke.

“I don’t write autographs and I’m not taking a selfie with you,” he deadpanned, frowning at Kei.

Kei nearly fell ass-first from the sheer force of his whiplash.

“Hah?”

Hot rage immediately blossomed from the depths of his chest.

_What the ever-loving fuck was wrong with this rude asshole?_

“Who’d want a picture with _you?_ What are you? Royalty?” he scoffed and sneered back at him.

The skater at least had the audacity to look slightly regretful, but the thought of apology seemed too far fetched the moment he opened his mouth again.

“What _do_ you want, then? You were staring at me like a creep.” Kei ignored the reaction he had to the low growl in his voice.

_Not now, amygdala._

He crossed his arms, despite the action nearly tipping him off balance entirely, and leveled him with a glare in return. “I was gonna ask you for pointers, King, not for an autograph. Thinking highly of ourselves, aren’t we?” he hurriedly clarified.

Not that he’d planned what he would say at all. Kei’s traitorous brain had simply decided that the sight before him was too joyous to tear his gaze from, and once he’d gotten caught he’d had no option but to follow through and walk up to him.

Not that he’d tell this mighty asshole that he approached him because Kei was gay and he was insanely hot, no. Never. Not with that attitude. He was even starting to question the guy’s attractiveness, considering the nasty personality that went along with it, and whether the deal was worth it at all.

Just when he’d decided he wasn’t, after all, Adonis incarnate hade the _audacity_ to smirk and tip his head back to squint at Kei—exposing the tendon in a long, unmarked neck gleaming with sweat.

“Oh? Pointers? Why? Because you’re waddling around like a moron on stilts?” he asked, and Kei tried so hard to let that statement deflate the growing problem of his steadily increasing heartrate.

It didn’t help. Instead, he stood there, fumbling for a snarky reply. Anything good. Anything to get his dignity back and whatever ounce of confidence he’d once had, but his dysfunctional brain wouldn’t let him think anything other than something along the lines of _I wanna kiss him so bad._

He groaned, internally, and swallowed his pride when he realized the option of getting taught how to skate by a hot, actually _professional_ skater wouldn’t be such a bad idea. Considering the reason he was there in the first place, it even sounded like a _good_ idea for exactly one second.

“Yes,” he sighed, “Pointers. Help. Whatever you wanna call it. My friends wanted us to come here next weekend and I’ve never set foot on an ice-rink before.”

Every word stung like acid as it traveled up his throat, but the abusive way in which _Adonis’_ grin grew wider by the second was a torture he gladly welcomed—deep down in his mind, where he was free to feel without the restrictions so graciously put on him by all and everything.

“Okay,” said the skater, to Kei’s absolute astonishment, “I’ll show you, Beanpole-san.” He snorted and pushed himself off the ledge to stretch out a hand towards Kei.

“It’s Tsukishima Kei, your majesty. Hope it’s not too hard for you to remember.”

The twitch in his eyebrow was award enough for Kei.

“Kageyama Tobio,” said the skater, “And as I recall, a king’s servants should serve their king with respect, no?” he asked with the quirk of a perfect brow.

Kei stuffed every crude synonym to _Kindly fuck yourself_ down his own throat and tightened his grip on the offered hand—soft and slender in his.

“Fuck off,” he whispered and watched as Kageyama’s eyes widened before his face broke into a wide grin. Kei was surprised the ice around his feet hadn’t melted already.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

╔═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╗

_I bring more flavor than all the seasons._  
Winter, spring, summer, fall;  
The grass is always greener 'til I cut it all.

╚═══°∴,*⋅✲══〖✰〗══✲⋅*,∴°═══╝

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

“You suck!”

Kei groaned as he wobbled and slipped for the hundredth time that evening and gripped the two outstretched arms tighter to keep steady.

“Or maybe you’re just a shitty teacher,” he barked back.

“How hard can it be to just keep your knees steady?” half-yelled Kageyama in kind.

They’d been at it for at least half an hour and Kei still couldn’t get the hang of it. Kageyama had graciously offered to help him, which had proven to be a momentous mistake on Kei’s part for even considering it a good idea.

Not only was it insanely difficult to concentrate when Kageyama’s long, leggings-clad legs were _right there,_ flexing and taunting, and Kei’s hand firmly planted on toned shoulders; but Kageyama was, also, insufferable.

Absolutely, completely insufferable.

The world’s biggest idiot with the most inflated ego Kei had ever witnessed in a human being.

He quickly learned that the magnificence with which he skated was as far as his intelligence and graciousness went, for the casual Kageyama was crude and loud. He had this strange assumption that anyone could skate like seven angels of God were gracing their every limb, and was shocked to discover that Kei was nothing but a heap of poorly muddled-together flesh trying to stay stable in a pair of slowly decaying skates from fourteen generations ago.

Which, for the record, stood like a stark contrast against Kageyama’s sleek, black, fitted ones. They hugged his slim ankles perfectly and the tie wasn’t even too long. He hated him a little more for that alone.

“Not everyone is a fucking skating-genius, you know? Us mere mortal peasants have to actually _learn_ how to fucking move on ice, for Christ’s sake.” He frowned so hard he could feel it crease his skin.

This guy would give him premature wrinkles if he didn’t get the hang of things soon enough.

Kageyama sighed. “Okay, how about this,” he said and— _actually thinking it wouldn’t kill Kei—_ got _closer._

With both arms now wrapped tightly around Kageyama’s neck, and their faces far too close to be considered normal for two people who barely knew each other’s names, they moved forward. Kei taking baby steps after Kageyama’s retreating skates and Kageyama moving backwards across the ice, movements as natural as if he’d been born on the very rink they were gliding across.

“How’s this supposed to help…” he muttered and begged to whatever God could hear him that the flush he felt burning his skin could at least be brushed off as exertion.

Then, mid panic, something switched. His legs suddenly, and without notice, started _moving_ in tandem with Kageyama. It was still a little unsteady and shaky, but his thigs were actually moving. He wasn’t waddling awkwardly on the ice, but actually dragging his legs and skating along.

It felt like the first time riding a bike without tipping over, except faster. The sensation of _so that’s how you do it_ washed over him so quickly he barely registered they were going faster until he noticed the other skaters passing by in a blur of color.

Kageyama laughed from in front of him, eyes glued to the undoubtedly dawning amazement on Kei’s features. “See?” he said and smiled, and Kei positively melted, “It’s easy.”

He couldn’t even find it in himself to be mad or defensive about the arrogance in his voice, for his heart was elevated with a giddiness he hadn’t felt in a long, long while.

He huffed a breath of a laugh as the movement of his legs steadily became more confident, and in a matter of seconds they were moving past everyone at high speed. Kageyama slowly unlatched Kei’s arms from around his neck while he floated on cloud nine, and even slower lowered them to rest between them. The distance made meant he wobbled for a second, and Kei’s heart lurched as he regained his balance. He gasped in excitement as the speed increased further.

That’s when Kageyama’s expression twitched. “Hey, maybe you should slow down a little—”

But he didn’t get to finish his sentence, for the next moment an unexpected teenager to his left hooked his club beneath Kei’s skate and all air left his lungs as the skate rink tipped and Kageyama’s expression grew closer and closer.

The moment seemed to slow time as he painfully clearly saw the disaster unfold. A bump, he staggered and tipped, and his full weight crashed headfirst into a Kageyama sporting a very bewildered expression probably matching Kei’s.

The ice beneath them was cold and wet and soaked through Kei’s knees and legs where they were resting on the ice, but that wasn’t his biggest issue—for he was certain the squirming Kageyama below him had ended up with a much wetter ass than Kei.

His heart stilled in his throat, and all surrounding noise died out the moment Kageyama’s eyed opened and stared into his own.

He hadn’t noticed before, with his terrible vision, the pale patches of silver in the center of his iris, or the way it was framed by a thick shadow of dark, dark blue.

He hadn’t noticed the little scar above his right cheek, or the softness of his lips.

Perhaps because he hadn’t been, you know, kissing him.

As he was doing now.

As he was still doing.

With a start and a gasp, he lifted himself off Kageyama’s face, but didn’t get much further than that when his knee slipped.

Kei could do nothing but watch in horror as Kageyama winced and rolled his eyes back before he squeezed them shut in pain when Kei’s knee collided with…

With less sturdy parts…

How romantic. _Surely, this is how you swoon every hot guy you come across on an ice-rink,_ he thought bitterly.

“Shit! Shit! Sorry!” he hurriedly squawked and moved to roll off Kageyama and onto the ice but a firm grip on his arm stopped him.

Kei’s face was positively fuming with heat. He was sure the air around him was steamy and foggy, and that the ice where his hands were still pressed would have holes in it after his heated palms.

Hadn’t he mentioned that he was certain to make an ass out of himself? Well, point proven, or something.

Then, for the second time that day, Kageyama _laughed._ This time, however, it wasn’t a quick giggle, but a full-blown belly laugh. The one that made your chest vibrate and your breath come out short. The one that brought tears to beautiful, striking eyes and the one that flaunted a pair of enamoring _dimples._

God, even his teeth were perfect, his monkey-brain supplied tiredly as Kei could do nothing but wallow in self-pity. People were surely staring, laughing, but he couldn’t hear anything or see anyone but Kageyama.

Kageyama who stopped and leveled him with the warmest gaze he’d received yet today.

“At least buy me a drink first,” he said and Kei positively imploded.

“Sorry,” he muttered, annoyed at himself for acting like a Hinata.

“First time getting kneed in the nuts for trying to help a cute boy learn to skate, but I’ll take what I can get as long as you follow through.” He maneuvered around until he was standing and reached out a hand towards a still kneeling Kei.

“Wait, you were serious?” he asked, brain running in circles around the word _cute_ as if stuck on a record.

“Yeah?” Kageyama shot back. “It’s the least you could do,” he added.

“Here?”

“There’s a café around the corner. They sell hot chocolate and coffee, among other things. I thought…” But he seemed to hesitate, then, at the look of shock on Kei’s face. “Sorry if I got the wrong impression…” he finished instead.

A soft blush rose to his cheeks, and Kei hurried to correct him.

“Wait, no! I—I’ll do it! You didn’t get the wrong impression…” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I mean, you’re not exactly a pleasant person—”

“Mutual.”

“—but you didn’t really deserve getting kneed and assaulted in one go, so.”

He set his gaze on the swirly pattern in the ice, and the red lines going through its depths.

Kageyama snorted, then stretched out his hand. Kei shook it. “It’s a deal, then, Unpleasant-shima,” he taunted and smirked. “Though I’d argue the assault part wasn’t as unpleasant as would be fitting your terrible personality.”

“Look who’s talking, Mr High-and-mighty” Kei fired back, all hostility blown out the window. Were they flirting? Probably. Definitely. And he didn’t mind it at all. “Though I have to say I was a lot less wet and cold when you were a bad teacher.”

Kageyama grinned wider. “Want me to hold your hand so you don’t kiss the ice, too, on your way out?” he asked.

Kei saw his opening. “I’d like you to hold my hand, but not because I might fall on the ice.”

He saw the moment his little flirt settled. Kageyama switched hand so they could walk side by side. “Alright, then, Casanova. Buy me hot chocolate, then we’ll talk.”

“As you wish, your highness,” he said and laughed when Kageyama harshly pulled him after on his way to the exit.

Perhaps some things about winter weren’t so bad after all, he thought.

✼ •• ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ •• ✼

**Author's Note:**

> This was INSANELY fun to write, yall have no idea.   
> Like, actually really fun to the point where I couldn't fucking stop. 
> 
> Anyways.  
> I hope yall liked it!
> 
> Cheers!


End file.
